Celebrate
by Sophia2012
Summary: Neal and Sara future fic. Beware: Could contain some highly, bordering on Disney-endings-like, fluffy moments. I know that's not everybody's cup of tea.
1. Chapter 1

A little something I was in the mood for to write. Neal/Sara future fic one-shot.

For those who read my other two stories; I haven't forgotten about them, it's just taking me a little more time to write the next chapters. They'll be up asap. Sorry for the delay!

Please review? Please? Thanx!

Soph

* * *

"Alright, Sam," Sara let out a sigh, as much as she loved her job, it unfortunately sometimes involved bursting bubbles she didn't want to burst, "I like you, kid, I really do. You're smart and headstrong and I respect that. However, this bike is still stolen and you're still the one who stole it. And I have to take it back." She approached him to take the keys and hoped he would hand them over easily. She wasn't lying when she said she liked him and she'd hate to involve the cops or even have to hurt him.

But with her step forward, he took a step backward.

"Sam," she started warningly, "Trust me, you don't want to do this."

His expression then changed. It went from shock and fear to smug and self centered. He dropped his head slightly and was now looking at Sara through his eyelashes. "What if I do?"

The rolling of her eyes was not something Sara could stop and she let out a grunt, letting him know whatever act he was playing, she's been there and done that. She had really hoped this could go the easy way, but if he wanted it tough, he could get it tough.

"Last warning, Sam," she paused a second and held his gaze, "Give me the keys, I'm, repossessing this Augusta F4CC motorcycle you stole."

"First of all, where did you learn to talk like that? It's hot," he winked at her before continuing in the same smugness as before, "Second, this is my bike. If anyone is stealing, it's you."

Sara tried approaching him again, and this time he didn't back away, though there was a clear hesitation hovering over his expression and body language. The tough guy act was all a façade and Sara had seen through it from the beginning. He was a good kid, probably just got caught in a rich kid's truth-or-dare game gone wrong. But all that being as it may, she was here for a job and so she took another step closer and put her hand out for Sam to put the keys in.

She saw how his facial expression softened and how the insecure kid came back.

"I didn't even get to play with it. You're fast," Sara took the compliment with a blasé shrug of her shoulders and a smile, "Tell me, you said I was smart… Was I any challenge at all?"

"Really, kid? That's what you're worried about? I'd be more concerned about what my parents would have to say about my being 17 and already having stolen something worth over 120K."

He let out a smirk at that, "Yeh, like they care."

And then it was back, the mask. The tough guy façade. Sara couldn't help but feel sympathetic towards him. He reminded her of herself in some ways.

"Look, just give me the keys, Sam, and I'll try my best to get the charges against you dropped, okay?"

It was only a fraction of a second, only a flicker on his face, that was the only warning Sara got to Sam's anger.

"You think I care about that?" He yelled and lashed out. He lifted both his arms to push Sara to the ground. Fortunately, Sara had seen this possibility coming and quickly pulled out her other hand out of her pocket, holding a Taser gun. She pressed it against his chest and before Sam even got to touch the air around her, he was lying on the floor, the electric shocks slowly ebbing out of his body.

Everything happened so quickly that Sara barely noticed the fast approaching footsteps behind her in the alley. She gave Sam a last, quick glance to make sure he wasn't getting up before turning around and facing her next attacker.

"Neal?"

"Sara," Neal panted as he slowed his run into a walk. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked down a moment before facing her again. He knew he was in trouble for following her and cursed inwardly. He told himself not to get caught, to only be carefully observant, but seeing this deeply disturbed kid lashing out had made Neal step out of his hiding place, "I, uh…"

"You were following me!" She accused, her voice covered with betrayal.

He knew there was no way out of this so instead of using words he let his eyes speak. He raised his shoulders while his eyes grew big with guilt and he silently pleaded for forgiveness.

Sara took a moment to scan his face and finally shrugged, "I guess I should have seen this coming." She turned around to bend down to a still recovering, and now surrendering, Sam. "Told you, you didn't wanna do this," she repeated her words while retrieving the keys from the pocket of his jeans.

All she got as a reply was growled murmur as Sam was still not able to speak properly. She smiled at him and locked her gaze with his, "Look, I'm not one to break promises, so I'll try to get the Bennet's not to file charges okay? You rest." She patted his shoulder before getting up again to face a stunned Neal.

"What?" her eyes grew with curiosity and her cheeks colored a soft pink. Even after all this time, his expression could still make her feel self conscious and insecure.

"You're not mad?" The surprise caused his voice to sound a little higher than usual.

"I didn't say that."

"So, you _are_ mad?"

"I didn't say that, either." She smiled as she watched his confusion grow bigger.

Not knowing what to do or say, or frankly, how to react, his lips started moving to words his mind hadn't formed, "Look, I just… I overheard you talking about retrieving this bike and you didn't say anything about a pick-up service so I assumed you wanted to ride it back and I just had to make sure you didn't. You just… You can't." It was only when he was done rambling that he realized he had confessed everything.

Sara felt how the feelings of betrayal and anger ebbed away and made room for affection. She smiled at him and put her hand on his chest.

"Thank you for caring, Neal. And I know you worry, but you should know that I would never, _ever_ do anything to jeopardize - " she was cut off before she had the chance to finish her sentence.

"I know, I know. You're right, I'm sorry, I should have trusted you and… It won't happen again."

She smirked, "Why don't I believe you? Why do I get the feeling these are going to be the longest nine months of my life?"

Neal put one hand on her still flat belly and used his other arm to pull her closer, "Do you hear that?" he gasped with mock horror, "Two years and mommy still doesn't trust daddy!"

Sara abruptly looked up and frowned.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just… I mean, of course I knew we were going to be parents, but… hearing the actual words 'mommy' and 'daddy' is just-" she was cut off again, only this time it wasn't Neal. It was the lump that had appeared in her throat out of thin air and the tears that were balancing on her eyelids.

Then, only seconds later, she pulled away from Neal and fiercely wiped any trail of tears away from her face. She cleared her throat and pointed her index finger at Neal, "_Don't_ let the tears fool you, Caffrey, it's just hormones," she warned.

Surprise was back on his face and Neal raised his hands in mock surrender, "Okay, alright," he approached her, "I will not let the tears fool me," he smiled and pulled her in for a hug, "Mommy."

He felt how Sara pulled up her shoulders and her arms only to drop them in surrender two second later, "Here we go again!" her muffled voice sounded from his chest and surely a moment later, Neal felt how the warmth of her wet tears had spread throughout the fabric of his shirt.

"Why do I get the feeling these are going to be the longest nine months of my life?" he quoted her previous question.

"Ugh, shut up," her voice was soft and she gently punched his shoulder.

Their moment was interrupted by a certain young man who had now recovered enough to stand up. Neal dropped his left arm, but kept his right on her shoulders, keeping Sara attached to his side.

Sam stood up and backed off, walking in circles. One palm pressed tightly to his forehead, somehow wishing the pressure would ease his the constant drumming inside. His other hand was raised in the air as a sign of surrender. "Look, I had no idea you were pregnant, I'm sorry, I would never have tried to…. Anthing if I knew." Though his words were meant for Sara, his eyes never left Neal's menacing gaze.

"That's okay Sam, just remember this moment next time think about proving a point to your friends."

Sam just gave a quick nod before turning around and running away.

"Sooo…" Neal started.

"Sooo." Sara repeated.

"How about we call someone to pick this up and you and I go home?"

"What? Neal, it's 12 PM, I have an entire day ahead of me, plus I got to make sure the paperwork for this recovery is all in order ánd I have to make sure the Bennet's don't press charges against Sam."

"Yeah, but your pregnant," he tried in a tempting voice accompanied with equally tempting eyes.

Sara smiled, it was involuntary, almost a reflex at hearing she was pregnant. "Oh God," she groaned, "these are really going to be the longest nine months, _ever_!"

Neal laughed, he knew was being demanding and it was probably very annoying. He knew there was no way Sara was just going to sit home for nine months, no matter how badly he'd want it. But he also knew that the right touch, the right look and the right words could get him very far.

"C'mon, just for today, what do you say? We _should_ be home, we _should_ be celebrating this news."

Sara laughed at that, "Neal, we've been celebrating for three days straight, ever since we found out."

"Even more reason to keep going. What difference is one day going to make?"

Sara pointed at the bike, "Uhm… A 120.000 dollars?"

He shrugged it off, "Pocket change."

She rolled her eyes, but couldn't help smiling. She knew he'd win this discussion, but she couldn't go down without a fight. And to be perfectly honest, going home and 'celebrating' sounded really good.

"Alright," she gave in, "let's go home."

"Yes! You won't regret it."

"I'd better not." She looked up at him and desire was quickly taking over both their states of mind as their gazes locked. Needing just a taste of what's to come, Neal gently lifter her chin and pressed his lips eager, but gently, on hers.

* * *

I was thinking about maybe adding another chapter for their wedding? Please let me know what you guys think. Thnx!

Soph


	2. Chapter 2

Thank u guys so much for the positive feedback! I had written the previous chapter planning on it being a one-shot, but your reactions made me want to write more! The way I see it right now, it won't be a very long story, maybe just one or two more chapters after this one.

There's not much dialogue in this one cause I was trying to portray Neal and Sara dealing with the pregnancy and the changes it brings to their lives. Hope you'll like it!

Please leave your thoughts! Thnx!

Soph

* * *

As smooth as he could, Peter walked over to the kitchen table to grab the last dishes and quickly glanced over to the ladies who were chatting away with their glasses in their hands. He turned around and while walking over to the dishwasher, where Neal was filling it with tonight's dinner's dishes, he made some last minute adjustments to the conversation he had planned in his head.

He put the dishes on the counter and Neal almost immediately picked them up and placed them in the dishwasher.

Alright, so maybe it was none of his business, but curiosity was killing him. And he was never one to shy away from his born tendency to know about things, so he wasn't going to shy away now. He just needed to figure out a strategy that would get him the most results.

He put his hand on the counter and leaned against it, watching Neal carefully, prepared to catch every expression or shifts in body language that could tell him what he wanted to know.

"So," Peter started, stalling a little as he was still figuring out the best way to go about it. He knows Neal is a very private person, even with everything they'd been through, there were certain things Neal just didn't like to discuss - his thoughts and emotions being two of them, "have you asked her…?" He left the question open for Neal to fill in the blanks.

Neal got up and closed the door to the dishwasher in the process, "Have I asked who what?"

"You know," Peter urged and gave Neal a little more time to think and when he couldn't make the link, Peter finally rolled his eyes and continued, "Have you popped the question? Have you asked her to marry you?" His voice was an urgent whisper, making sure the women in the living room couldn't hear him.

Neal was without a doubt the perfect objectification of perfect body control. Not only was forgery an utterly precise activity, or did cracking saves and picking locks require a stealthy precision, but everything that came afterwards – be it getting caught or be it fencing – required the highest level of careful and precise control.

It was just something that went from him being very good at it, to it being his way of life: perfect body control.

But even to him there were some things – things that didn't belong in his every day life, that just popped up out of nowhere – that caught him of guard.

It would have been almost unnoticeable, had it not been for Peter knowing him so very well. He had watched Neal carefully and under his scrutinized eye Peter had noticed Neal's body stiffening and his eyes widening. He saw how Neal briefly caught his breath and how, when Neal put his hand on the counter to lean on, it slipped.

Tough Peter had expected this kind of reaction, his amusement at watching it happen was now spread across his face in the form of a mischievous half-smile, and he couldn't help it.

"Wha-Why?" the boy that had taken over Neal had stammered, "Do you think I have to?" His eyes were big with the innocence of an inexperienced kid.

He was well aware that this was just Peter having a good time, but the insecurity inside him made him overlook it: Neal had always put effort into talking – or chatting. He had enough knowledge to be able to talk about almost any subject possible with any given person, he made sure he followed the news and was politically aware so that when it was required of him to talk, he could talk.

He could talk about any- and everything – but himself. Not only was that an extremely important aspect of his life as a con, it was also a blanket he could snuggle under and be comfortable. Keep his private life, private.

Had someone started asking questions about him, there was always something he could say to divert the conversation ánd the person to somewhere safer.

Though his life here, with Sara, and Peter and Elizabeth, had affected this habit and had slowly built a tunnel to his personal life, nothing came close to the giant whole that was immediately created for his child as soon as he found out about it.

It was a big change and it had left him on unfamiliar territory. But even with this, there was nothing Neal was more afraid of than of being a bad father to either his child, or in Sara's eyes. There was nothing he wasn't willing to do to prevent that from happening. Even if it meant getting up close and personal with Peter.

"Well, yeah!" Peter stated as a matter of factly, "You're already moving in together, you're having a baby… you guys couldn't be more married than you already are, why not make it official?"

Neal thought about that for a while. Was he right? This is Peter after all. He's wanted them to get hitched since that morning he's caught Sara in his apartment after "their version of Sudoku in the afternoon".

But then again, his words did make a lot of sense and Neal could remember a certain time in his past when he had intended to get married in his life. It wasn't something he ruled out.

"What if she doesn't want to?"

Peter raised his eyebrow in encouragement, "Only one way to find out."

* * *

Laughing at El's story about Peter's late night ritual of brushing his teeth with nothing more than boxers and a pair of socks while dancing to the Bee Gees, Sara put her glass of water on the salon table.

"You guys have a great marriage," Sara stated with awe, "I mean, almost 15 years together now and you're still madly in love. That's beautiful."

Elizabeth, who had smiled broadly at the compliment as a way of thank you, watched Sara's expression carefully when she suspected just a hint of sadness in her voice.

"Well you and Neal aren't doing so bad yourselves. God knows you two have put each other through a lot but you always survived and in the end it has only made your relationship stronger."

Sara had smiled at that, somewhat proud and somewhat embarrassed at remembering the things she'd put Neal through in the past.

She considered herself a grounded person, someone driven by reason and not by emotion. But there was just something about Elizabeth, her tranquil confidence and her ability to put things in perspective, that had made Sara like her even more. In times or situations where she couldn't rely on her own reason, she knew she could always rely on Elizabeth's.

"I remember the first time Peter brought you to our house," Elizabeth remembered, "you guys had worked together before, but this time, boy, you were on fire. You two were really eager to bring Neal down and charge him with any- and everything you could,"

"Oh God!" Sara briefly buried her face in her hands and looked up with embarrassment written all of her.

Elizabeth allowed a quick chuckle before continuing, "It was a little over 8 years ago and you were so mad, I could almost smell it on you, you were on fire. And look at you and Peter, now. Neal has wormed a way into your lives, permanently, and you wouldn't have it any other way."

"Yeah," Sara mused, still feeling the embarrassment inside her look for a dark corner it could hide in, "funny how things work out."

"Oh, I hear ya," Elizabeth tilted her wineglass as if to toast before taking sip, "so, how's the house hunting going?"

"Ugh, don't even get me started," Sara groaned, "If the floor boards aren't loose, the staircase is a one way ticket to the hospital. If the kitchen isn't going to kill you, the neighborhood sure will."

"Aw," Elizabeth sympathized, "Well, you guys will get there. Your house is out there, you'll find it."

"Tha-" Sara started but was cut off by the strangest feeling in her belly, "Ow.." she wrapped her arms protectively around her small baby bump and looked down, focusing on what was going on inside.

Elizabeth immediately sat up and placed her hand over Sara's arms, "Sara, are you okay?" when Sara however didn't answer she turned her head away from her, facing the kitchen, "Neal! Peter!"

Within seconds the boys were in the living room and after taking one look at the scene in front of them, worry had almost completely taken over Neal. He pushed it aside and kneeled down on the floor next to Sara.

"Sara? What's going on, are you alright?" His voice was strained with worry and it matched the tight clenching of his jaw. He placed one hand on her lower back and put his other over the arms she had wrapped over her belly.

"Sara?" Neal desperately pleaded.

She then looked up from her belly and turned to look down at Neal, who was surprised to see that she was smiling broadly.

"Wha-?"

"It's early!" Sara laughed.

"_What?_!"

Sara shook her head at her previous words, realizing now how disturbing they must sound, and took hold of Neal's hand. She placed it on the right side of her belly button, never leaving Neal's gaze.

And there it was again. She watched Neal's face instantly brighten up as he felt it too; the baby kicked. Somewhere in the far back, his mind finally made sense of Sara's previous words: During their first echo, they had impatiently asked the doctor how long it would take before they could feel the baby kick and she'd told them around 15/16 weeks. Sara was now 13 weeks into the pregnancy.

But that was all in the far back of his mind. The rest of his mind seemed to keep bubbling up with joy. He felt how his heart worked twice as hard and he'd almost think it was for the sole purpose to supply his body with enough oxygen as the whirlwind of emotions almost left him breathless.

He aimed his gaze away from her belly and looked up at her, only to recognize every sparkle of emotion in her eyes as he assumed she could recognize his. They shared their laughs, happy but somehow unbelieving, and Neal lifted himself off the floor just enough to meet Sara halfway for a quick kiss.

"Peter, El, you have to feel this. It's amazing." The happy couple turned away from each other to face the other broad smiling couple right across from them.

Elizabeth, not needing a second invitation, sat up again and placed her hand on Sara's belly.

"Oh my God," she whispered as she felt the ever so soft flutter against her hand, "That's amazing."

Peter, however, needed a little convincing that it was really okay to touch Sara's belly. It took a few seconds but in the end, there were four brightly excited faces with ear-to-ear grins in the Burke's living room.

* * *

I have to say, I didn't reread this for any mistakes ( I tend not to do that right after I've written something cause it always makes me wanna change everything and eventually I end up with something entirely different). I'll try to make time tomorrow and correct any mistake.

Please review!

Soph


	3. Chapter 3

Loads and loads of thanx to those who reviewed; you're making my day and it's making to continue this story! So here's another chapter ;)

merbear09: Thank you for your enthusiasm and you're request for longer chapters. Unfortunately I have not been able to meet your request this time, but I'll definitely try the next time!

Please leave your thoughts again!

Soph

* * *

He had just taken a generous bite of his turkey sandwich, while putting his wallet back in his pocket, when he felt his phone buzzing.

Damn it! He had been looking forward to his quiet lunch all day. No Neal being Neal, no priority cases, no interrogations, no stings; just him, his turkey sandwich and New York.

"Burke," his heavy voice answered brusquely.

"Peter," Neal's voice sounded breathless on the other line, "it's Neal, look I need-"

"Why are you whispering? And why are you pant-" Peter stopped himself mid-sentence as he made sense of the situation, "Ooh, no! No way, not again!"

"Peter, please. It's the last time, I promise."

Peter took another bite of his sandwich while walking back to the FBI building. He let Neal finish, though all the while determined that whatever excuse Neal came up with, it wasn't going to work.

His tongue – swift and experienced – escorted the chunk of food to the right corner of his mouth, when he answered, "I thought the last time, was the last time?"

"No," Neal corrected and tried to sound as a matter of factly, as if Peter truly had been wrong, "_this_ is the last time. Promise."

For some reason, it amused Peter to have Neal – suave, slick, sophisticated Neal – be in a less than perfect situation where he couldn't rely on his charms to save him. He, therefore, couldn't help the grin that seemed too eager to grace his face as he was reaching the steps of the FBI building.

"Neal, I'm not doing it again. I'm not your 'FBI-buddy' who's on your beck and call every time you decide to do something reckless," he paused to take another bite, "you're on your own."

"Wait, are you-? You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Neal accused. He could hear the amusement in Peter's voice and instantly imagined the grin that went along with it. He knew his partner.

He also knew his weaknesses: "Wait, I think Sara wants to talk to you."

Peter came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the steps, causing another agent to nearly bump into him. He halfheartedly raised his hand in apology at the agent's annoyed objection, but he was mainly focused on what Neal was trying to pull.

"What? Neal, no. Don't do it, Neal," he warned sternly, but as he heard Sara in the background - objecting to take the phone - Peter knew he lost. He may have been able to say 'no' to Neal – and even enjoying it – but Neal knew Peter wouldn't be able to deny Sara. Especially now that she's pregnant.

"Hi, Peter," her voice sounded almost shy.

"Sara," he greeted, while making a 180 on his heels and walking down the steps, to his car.

"We seem to have a…uh...situation."

"Yup, so I've heard," he made no effort to hide his irritation, "where are you guys, this time?"

Sara gave him the instructions and Peter ended the conversation just before getting in his car.

* * *

On the other end of the line, Sara had returned Neal his phone and purposely avoided eye contact. She wasn't mad - at least, she didn't think she was? It was all still a bit confusing - she just didn't want him to know that just yet.

Neal had accepted his cellphone from Sara and kept his expectant gaze locked on her movements. He picked up on her less-than-amused status and had to stop himself from rolling his eyes; Sara had always been challenging, daring and surprising - it kept him on his toes and he was surprised to find out he enjoyed it. Every day was an adventure, whether it be a lazy Sunday where they did nothing other than lay in bed all day, or a depressing Monday when they both felt the same dread to end the lazy previous day. He knew her and yet he didn't. And he's never been one to walk away from intrigue and mystery.

However, add a full cup of pregnancy hormones to that mix and you have yourself a ticking time bomb. Even though both Sara and their baby were absolutely worth it, he'd be lying if he said it didn't test his patience. His nose would also be growing if he said there weren't times he just wanted to leave the apartment and rather spend the night at the FBI office. Yes, the FBI office, of all places.

Thankfully, Sara was driven by reason and not emotion, so any over-the-top-diva-moments she had, she always apologized for and even tried to make up for most of them.

Plus, it isn't _all_ bad hormones, Neal thought with a smirk. The good ones are what landed them here. The good hormones are what he owed several adventures to; ones on the rooftop of the FBI building, or fitting rooms at the Manhattan Mall, or pantries of the most luxurious hotels. The good hormones emphasized Sara's thrill seeking side, a side he could probably relate to the most.

Too bad they came without warning and needed to be answered to, right away. So, today, when they were at the hospital waiting room - patiently waiting for their names to be announced - and Sara had demanded his attention by gently squeezing his inner thigh while giving him a sideways look that said it all, Neal was forced to find the first somewhat private area he could lay his eyes on.

Unfortunately, the first area he did lay his eyes on, was the gynecologists examination room. They had been able to get in unnoticed and lock the door from inside, but twenty minutes into their 'adventure', they were interrupted by someone trying to open the door.

Both Neal and Sara had come to an abrupt halt and had looked at each other with nothing but shock covering the brightness of their eyes. They held their breaths and listened intently to the noises from the other side of the door. A muted "Damn it, where are my keys?" managed to slip in via the small cracks of the locked door and surely, looking over at the desk in the corner, Neal saw the key-cord sprawled rather comfortably onto the mouse mat. Footsteps ebbed away and Neal and Sara picked up where they left off.

Yes, there were also good hormones.

"So, is he coming?" Neal finally asked when Sara stubbornly avoided eye contact.

"I told you not to give me the phone, Caffrey," she made sure her voice was heavy with discontent, "Do you know how embarrassing that was?"

Well, of course it was embarrassing, for him too, but you don't see Neal crying about it?

Neal didn't want to offend her; _or_ add oil to the fire, for that matter. His indecisiveness resulted in widened eyes and the slightest burrow of brows. He all but shrugged in defeat.

Sara looked up at him and after recognizing the helplessness on his features, she decided to explain herself, "I've known Peter for over ten years, in which he's always treated me like a sister. Don't ever put me through that again."

Neal's frown relaxed as understanding filled his mind. He should have thought of that. But then again, they really needed his help and after having busted them out two previous times, Neal knew Peter wasn't giving in this time.

"I'm sorry, I didn't even think of that," he offered with a genuine half smile.

"It's alright," Sara smiled back, "You're just going to have to make it up to me."

Neal raised his eyebrows as he pulled his head away a few inches to allow Sara full access to his surprise, "Make it up to you? I think today's little adventure gives me a free pass for the rest of the week. You were insatiable!"

Though embarrassment gave life to her cheeks, Sara couldn't help the mischievous grin that surely spread across her face. She looks down briefly, her awkward shyness showing a slight and brief upper hand, before looking back up with sparkling eyes that match the form of her lips, "I know," she shot apologetically, "It's the hormones! I swear, Caffrey, I don't know _what_ you planted in there, but it's both our mess and we both need to clean it up."

Neal's lips had already found the spot below her earlobe when he let a soft chuckle at her words, somehow finding her unpredictability very irresistible, "I don't mind these kind of messes," he whispered in her ear and an involuntary shiver ran down her spine as a result of her tickling senses.

"I'm sorry I broke the lock on the door," Sara's voice was soft and low, not because she was afraid of getting caught, but because it is all her body can muster with Neal's hand caressing her inner thigh.

"I don't mind," he repeated in the same coveting tone as he let his lips graze hers. Their gazes locked as their warm and short breaths caressed one another's skin. Finally, Neal put his hand on her neck and pulled her closer, letting their lips meet and answer their desires.

Neal had just pulled Sara – who was sitting on a table – closer and felt how her legs were tightly wrapped around his, eagerly pressing him to close the smallest of distance that still existed between them. He lowered his hands from her waist when he distinguished the familiar voice: "'S'cuze me, FBI, is this Dr. Hawkins' office?"

Both Neal and Sara's mood were instantly disturbed upon hearing the man's voice – A man they both considered family. Unexciting. In fact, the complete opposite of that.

They readjusted their clothes and Neal helped Sara off the table. He pulled out his cellphone and quickly typed Peter a message: _Peter, it's the first door right to the ward's reception – where you're standing._

"Never mind." They heard Peter say and imagined how he brushed off the nurse he had approached to begin with.

In the next minutes that followed, Peter had arranged for the door to be forced open. Neal and Sara eventually got out and hurriedly left the hospital, followed by the suspicious and scrutinizing gaze of both hospital staff and patients. By now, they were both used by suchlike exits and it stopped bothering them. If anything, it made the whole thing even more exciting. Sara had to bite her lower lip to restrain from giggling and Neal's hand gently squeezed Sara's while he smiled at her, letting her know he feels the same way.

"We'll have to get a new ob-gyn," Sara had whispered to Neal as they said their goodbyes before Sara took place in the cab –she insisted on- back to Sterling Bosch. She wasn't exactly fond of the idea of having to spend the next half an hour with Peter and Neal in a car.

Neal chuckled and leaned in for a quick kiss goodbye, "I'll see you two at home."

* * *

It was a quickie (pun intended...), but I didn't want to leave you guys hanging much longer.

Hope you liked it!

Soph


	4. Chapter 4

It barely ever happened, but - she had to admit - when they did occur, it was when she was in bed with him: easy mornings. Mornings that almost felt like an extension of a wonderful dream she was woken from. Mornings that made everything seem like they truly were going to be okay. Sara has never been a morning person, always preferred the night for some reason. But, lately, she caught herself feeling rested and full of energy when her subconsciousness slowly drifted off, allowing her mind to gently stir up her senses.

Today, now, was one of those mornings. She felt the sun radiating it's warmth on their bed. Felt how a strand of her hair tickled her nose with every breath she took. Was conscious of her baby's legs pressed against her belly. And, slowly, she became aware of him watching her.

She couldn't stop the pleased smile that eagerly graced her face and she fluttered her eyes open briefly, just to confirm that he was in fact watching her. Her gaze crossed his radiating blue ones and she instantly recognized every emotion in them.

"Hmm'stop staring," she mumbled while her eyelids fell shut again.

"I'm not staring," Neal objected as he could no longer resist the urge to push back the strand of hair that covered half of her face, "I'm appreciating."

"Appreciate something else."

"You asked for it," he mumbled quickly and warningly before lifting up the sheets and ducking his head underneath it.

Sara's eyes flew open and she amusingly gasped at his suggestion. With one hand she pressed the sheets tighter to her body and the other was looking for Neal's head and guiding it back from underneath the sheets. She was not at all surprised to find that his cheeky grin was already matching the mischief in his eyes.

"That was _not_ what I meant."

"What?" Neal exclaimed innocently, "I was just saying good morning to my baby boy, or –girl."

"Uhu," Sara laughed as she rolled her eyes. She had pushed off the sheets and was just about to get out of bed when suddenly his words had her stopping dead in her tracks.

"Marry me."

They were just words. Words that, when separate, had no other effect on her than usual. Words that, when put together, had the power to freeze her body and send her mind in a total frenzy.

* * *

This morning, Neal experienced, was just one of those mornings where everything seemed like they could truly be okay. Maybe looking for a house and moving in together wasn't going to be terribly hard. Maybe having a baby and raising a child wasn't going to be extremely terrifying. Maybe they could just go on and do it, and everything would work out.

But, as this calm feeling of faith hit him, he felt as if though something wasn't right yet. And in that moment, he knew. He knew he _wanted_ her. He _needed_ her. And today, that thought just wasn't so scary anymore. And every single time before this moment, when the thought of forever having to share his life had almost suffocated him, just seemed stupid and pointless. A waste of time.

He loved her hair, her eyes, her smile and her laugh. He loved how comfortable he felt with her, how things just seemed to fall into place. He loved how he knew her just as she knew him. He loved how there was a mutual understanding of one another, making words almost unnecessary. He also loved how there was so much still to learn and he loved how he couldn't wait to be taught.

So, when he opened his mouth and the words spontaneously rolled off his tongue, he wasn't too surprised to find that he was surprisingly calm and confident.

But maybe he should have considered the seconds of silence that followed. Those were pure agony. He'd take the months of back-and-forths over the three seconds of waiting for a reply, any time.

"Excuse me?" She managed to choke out, barely aware of how rude it must have sounded.

Neal could only smile as he watched Sara crawl back into bed and sit on her knees, facing him.

"Marry me." He repeated with the same calm and simple tone as before.

Sara frowned, "Why?" She inquired curiously.

At this, Neal sat up on his elbow, "What do you mean?"

"Why do you wanna get married? Is it cause of the baby? You know I told you I don't need all of that, we'll be-"

"Fine," he finished for her, "yes, I know. Sara, I'm not asking cause you're pregnant. I'm asking because I want to be with you, because I can't even imagine being with anybody else right now." He saw her lips part for the comment he knew she was going to make and before she could say anything, he quickly added: "And it's _not _because of the pregnancy."

Despite her efforts to stay calm, Sara heart stubbornly picked up it's pace, though she wasn't sure what caused it: the _hope_ of Neal actually wanting her or the _fear_ of Neal actually wanting her?

She wanted to ask him why – why her? – but she swallowed her words, somehow worried that if she opened her mouth, something else would come out. So instead she just sat there on his bed and in her mind she went through all the years she's known him. Memories are flashing through her mind like a movie. It's amazing how they ended up here; was it fate? Or bad luck?

Sara kicked herself mentally for thinking that. How could this be bad luck? Wasn't bad luck supposed to feel, well, bad? She felt amazing.

"Yes."

"Wha-?"

"Yes, Neal, yes I'll marry you!" Sara laughed.

Neal was going to ask for confirmation (Really? Are you sure?), but didn't want to jinx anything so instead he joined her laugh and pulled her closer to him for celebratory kiss.

Sara suddenly pulled back as realization hit: "Hoo my God, are we really doing this? Neal Caffrey, brazen art thief and Sara Ellis, wretched insurance investigator?"

"Hmm," Neal wrinkled his nose at those words, "We should probably come up with something better for the invitations." He pretended not to freak out at the mention of invitations. This just got really real.

"O-" Sara's voice got stuck on the vowel, "Invitations… " She spoke the word and let it linger in the air, wanting to taste it's aftertaste: it was surprising, but not nearly as bitter as she, for years, had thought it would be, "Wow, are we really doing this?" She asked Neal again.

"I will if you will."

"How are you so calm?"

"Give me another day, I feel a freak-out assembling inside my head."

Sara chuckled and nestled herself in his arms, laying her head on his chest. "Alright then, we're getting married."

"Why?"

Sara abruptly looked up, "Excuse me?"

Neal chuckled at her sudden response, "No, I mean, why'd you decide to say 'yes'?"

Sara took in his words with a slight nod and lay her head back down on his chest. Yes, why did she say 'yes' actually? She allowed herself a moment to think of the right answer.

"You know how, when growing up, every girl wants her boyfriend or husband to be like her father?"

"Sure," Neal replied hesitantly, unsure of where Sara was taking this.

"I never had that," Sara admitted, "In fact, I wanted the men I dated to be nothing like my father." Her voice became soft as the truth of her words hit her: Though this issue was always there – lying just beneath the surface – she had never allowed herself to get into it. It was too close to home. Too personal. Too hurtful. Even for and to herself. She figured if she would just ignore it, at one point, it would simply just not be there anymore.

Sara fell quiet and Neal stroked her hair back and planted a kiss on the top of her head.

"What was he like?" He didn't want to push, but Sara's confession raised a lot of questions. Neal inwardly prayed and hoped that none of the answers would have anything to do with abuse.

Under his arm, Neal felt Sara's torso rise as she drew a deep breath. She held it in for a few seconds and when she breathed out, the hot air tickled his skin. Sara lifted her finger and began drawing aimlessly on Neal's chest.

Maybe he was pushing.

"You don't have to answer that."

"No," Sara quickly replied, "I want to, I just- I'm looking for the right words. It's hard to describe him," she took another breath, "He was a very _hard_ man," she said the word carefully and took another second before explaining herself, "He was there, physically, but he was never a dad. He wasn't emotionally available. Never took me and my sister out, never told us he loved us – that was just something she and I had to assume. I remember going to bed every night and wondering if my father loved me. I used to lie awake for hours discussing with myself until I finally had to conclude 'well he must love us if he's working to buy us food and clothes and pay for the roof over our heads'. It used to be a comforting conclusion when I was seven, but, as you grow older, so does that excuse. Oh, and we were not allowed to make mistakes!" Sara's voice grew a little higher as the memories came flooding back. It was amazing how much she remembers now that she allowed herself to. But even now, with all the memories coming back to life inside her mind, it felt surreal. Like she was talking about someone else, describing someone else's childhood. She had distanced herself so much from those memories, locked them up and put them away, that she was only now hit by the painful reality that those memories were in fact hers. That the man she was describing was in fact her own father. It hurt.

Sara swallowed hard before continuing: "I grew up walking on eggshells because every little mistake would tick him off and make him moody for the rest off the day. It was almost like growing up with two personalities; whenever he was away, we could be ourselves; play outside, get dirty, accidentally break a plate or spill water, but as soon as he came home we fell quiet and the atmosphere inside the house died. I vowed to myself that if I ever had children, I would not let them grow up in a situation like that. I want my daughter to have a father who will tell her he loves her and who will help her do her homework. A father who will laugh at her mistakes and try to help and fix them, instead of making her feel like an idiot for making them." Sara took another moment, truly surprised at how much was pouring out now. And also surprised at how Neal was taking it; except for the occasional rise and fall of his chest, he was lying very still, not saying a word and just listening while stroking her hair comfortingly.

"Neal, I'm saying 'yes' because, whether we stay together for the rest of our lives, or we won't even make it a week, I believe that, not only are you that kind of father; you're that kind of man. And that alone is plenty of reason for me to want to be with you." Sara sighed contently at her final words. She had never let anyone get this close. Hell, she had never even let herself dig this deep. But for some reason it felt right to share this, if not for the benefit of their relationship, then at least for herself.

Neal was still quiet and she knew he was letting her have a moment. A pleased half smile crept over her face and she lightly kissed his chest as a way of thank you.

"So," Neal finally said, "A daughter, huh?"

Sara smiled at his icebreaker, "Well, one of them is bound to be a girl, don't you think?"

Neal raised his eyebrows in surprise and pulled his head back to meet Sara's amused gaze, "One of them?" He asked.

Sara's eyes grew big with amusement and it matched the form of her lips as she raised her eyebrows almost challengingly at him.

"Well, how many are we talking about?" Neal couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. The dream that once seemed so far away, had now come dangerously close. And he didn't mind. "Just asking so I'll know how much of my soul I'll need to sell in order to support all of them."

Sara casually let out a breath as she pretended to shrug indifferently, "Oh, I was thinking about four or five."

"Fiv-?" Neal almost choked on the word, "Please tell me that's the hormones talking?"

Sara chuckled. "It is," she reassured him, "My body can't handle five pregnancies. I'm not even sure it can handle one," she amended and looked down on her growing belly.

"Well," Neal raised his shoulder casually, "I'm sure it can handle maybe one more pregnancy. Maybe even two more?"

"Yeah?" Sara looked up at him, her smile even brighter.

"Yeah, 'think so."

Sara pulled herself up a little on her elbow and met Neal halfway for a kiss. It wasn't a kiss burning with desire; it was a kiss of satisfaction and hopeful dreams – it wasn't an entirely new kiss to them, but it was on an entire new level. This time, they allowed themselves to believe that everything would be okay.

Neal finally broke the kiss and waited for Sara to open her eyes.

"Thank you."

"For what?" Sara asked lightly.

"Everything you just shared… I-," he paused to find the right words, "I'm sorry you had to go through that and I'm sorry I can't take the pain away," Sara looked down; hearing from Neal that her memories caused pain, forced her to admit they do – despite her effort to believe that she had gotten so over it. Neal lifted her chin up and forced her to meet his smiling blues, "Hey, but I can relief one worry: Our kid _will_ be loved. There is nothing in this world she could do that would make me stop loving her. Or help her with her homework," he added with a smile, "or laugh at her mistakes and try to help and fix them."

Sara allowed a smirk before finding his lips again.

"So," Sara broke the kiss, "A daughter, huh?"

"Well, one of them is bound to be a girl, don't you think?"

* * *

Thank you all so much for your reviews and your patience with me!

merbear09: I'm hoping this chapter sort of answered your question, but if it hasn't: yes, there will be a wedding. ;)

Hope you enjoyed and please review.

Soph


	5. Chapter 5

"Neal!"

Neal put his book down on the table, got up from his sofa and followed Sara's voice. He got to the hallway outside his apartment and when he looked over the edge of the staircase, he found Sara looking up at him from the ground floor.

"Neal, I'm not doing this anymore. I'm sorry, I love you, but… No!" She yelled up at him and made a gesture with her hand to emphasize the final tone of her voice.

Neal, expecting this day to come, chuckled briefly and replied: "I'll get my bag, we'll stay at your place."

"Is all I'm asking," Sara's hormonal version of a thank you sounded. She put her hands on her waist to support her back while turning around and setting course to one of the classically designed settees in the foyer of June's house. Before sitting down, she contemplated if that would be such a good idea: it'd be nearly impossible to get up after getting herself into the absurdly comfortable looking chair.

Oh well, Neal would just have to help her get up then.

Carefully, almost as if to not break her back _or_ her 29 weeks old baby, Sara sat herself down, a satisfied sigh escaping through her lips when she succeeded.

"Sara?" June's voice echoed through the room, quickly followed by her footsteps, "Sweetheart, is that you?"

Before Sara could reply, June appeared into the foyer and immediately brought her hands to her mouth. "Oh, look at you!" June exclaimed affectionately and approached Sara with her arms stretched out, reaching for Sara's hands – which she held out for her.

"You look beautiful, pregnancy suits you." She gently squeezed Sara's hands as she sat herself on the edge of the coffee table.

"Oh," Sara chuckled shyly. She would love to rant about how much of a mess she is and how she does not feel sexy _at-all_, let alone beautiful, but she respected June far too much to disagree with her on anything – even this. "Thank you, June."

"Still no ring?" June held up Sara's left hand.

"Well, look at me!" Sara laughed, "I'm all bloated, no ring is gonna fit me now. I told Neal I wanted to wait till I'm somewhat normal sized again."

June tilted her head backwards in an understanding nod. "Am I then allowed to presume the wedding will be after the baby is born?"

That was a good question.

"I actually, honestly, don't know," Sara admitted, "We should probably discuss that, but with the whole pregnancy, shopping for the baby, work and looking for a house…" Sara let out a heavy breath at the never ending to-do list, "we haven't really gotten around to it."

June had opened her mouth to say something, but closed it when Neal entered the room, smiling at the scene in front of him. For some reason, it made him happy that June and Sara got along so well.

"Hey, June," he greeted while walking over to Sara to greet her with a kiss.

"Hello, dear. You're just in time."

"In time for what?"

"I have an announcement to make to the both of you," she paused to make sure she had their attention, "Though I love New York and it will always be my home, I have decided to move to the West Coast to be closer to my family."

"June…" Neal started, but his voice quickly died off as he didn't know how to react to this news.

"It's alright, darling. I must face the fact that I'm no longer as young as I feel and I want to be around my daughter and my grandchildren for as long as I can."

"We understand," Neal replied after June's words registered. Though he meant his words, he was suddenly very relieved that Sara still had her own apartment and they had never decided to just move into his place. "When will you leave?"

"I booked a flight for next week. That should give me plenty of time to arrange the move."

"That soon?" Neal asked incredulously.

"Good thing you packed your bag." Sara commented.

"Oh no! I'm afraid you misunderstood: I don't want you to leave, Neal. I would never ask that of you!" June almost sounded insulted at the assumption the couple made, "I want you to stay. Both of you. _All_ of you." June smiled and paused for their reactions, but when all she got were blank stares and parted lips with no sound, she chuckled before continuing: "Neal, you know I've always considered you family. We had a connection right from the start; you remind me of Byron in many ways and on many occasions. I'd like to think that if we ever had a son, he'd be just like you. And as appropriate for any family member: I couldn't be more thrilled that you've finally found your happiness with this wonderful woman. I want this house to stay in this family – with you."

"June.. I-" Neal stammered, tripping over all the words he wanted to say, "I don't know what to say… Thank you."

"Yes, thank you" Sara stammered, just as taken back as Neal was, "But, God, are you sure you're alright with this?"

"Of course, there is no one I'd rather pass this part of Byron's legacy over to, than you. I'm more than confident that the character and spirit of this house will never die as long as you two wish to stay in it," June then suddenly realized that she may not be doing them a favor at all. Maybe they _wanted_ a new house: A place where they can build their _own character_ and their _own memories_. "So, do you?"

If possible, Neal and Sara's eyes only grew bigger at that question.

"Are you kidding? We'd be honored to." Sara replied when it didn't seem like Neal would. "You have no idea how much this means to us, June. We know how much you love this house and how important it is to you. Thank you." And she meant it.

"You're welcome, honey." June placed one hand on Sara's knee and the other on Neal's, patting them and then using them for support to get up from the table. "Well!" she concluded as she let out a satisfied breath, "If you promise me a place to stay when I visit New York, I'll go call my lawyers and have them draw up the paper work."

Neal, feeling as if the weight of the world – something he wasn't even aware he had in the first place – was lifted off his shoulders, got up from Sara's armrest and instead of replying, he placed his arms around June's shoulders, hugging her tightly. "Thank you." He whispered in her ear.

June's affectionate laugh filled the room as she gladly returned the hug, "Thank _you_."

* * *

"Oh, hun, that smells amazing," Peter complimented as he jumped off the last step of the stairs and walked towards the kitchen.

"Why, thank you, honey," she smiled and turned her head away from stirring the jus to answer Peter's quick kiss. "Oh, could you get some oranges and make some juice for Sara? They'll be here any minute now."

"Sure," Peter obeyed and went to grab a few oranges from the bowl when suddenly the doorbell rang.

"Hun, could you-" Elizabeth started.

"On my way!" Peter replied, letting go of the oranges he was holding and setting course to the front door.

"Wow, look at you!" Peter blurted out in genuine surprise, not able to take his eyes off Sara's belly for a second too long. "That's one bi-" He stopped midsentence after seeing Neal's panicked 'cut-it'-gesture and amended: "bi-eautiful belly!"

Sara, who was smiling at Peter's enthusiastic surprise when he opened the door, was now treating him to an all but amused glare as she stepped in, forcing Peter to take a few steps backward to allow her enough space for her belly. Well, maybe – just maybe – it was actually the glare that forced him backwards.

"S'cuze me while me and my _big_ belly step inside." Sara huffed as she made her way inside, going straight for the kitchen.

"Subtlety, thy name is not Peter Burke." Neal joked dryly as he stepped inside. He couldn't help but be amused that not even Peter was saved from her hormones.

Though they could hear Sara greeting Elizabeth in the kitchen and handing over the bottle of wine they had brought along, Peter still felt like he had to whisper: "I'm sorry! I just… I mean, who knew it could grow so fast!"

"By "it" do you mean my kid? Keep going, Peter, you're on a roll."

Peter's eyes grew wide in shock: he had not at all meant that as an insult. What was wrong with him tonight?

"Oh no, n-no!" He was so quick to set things straight, that he tripped over his words, "I didn't mean-"

"I know," Neal chuckled, letting Peter know he was just joking, "I'm not the hormonal one, no need to explain _every, single, little thing_ to me."

Peter caught on immediately and burrowed his brows sympathetically, "that bad, huh?"

"Sometimes," and now Neal was whispering, "worse."

"Really?" Peter inquired almost incredulously, but somehow intrigued as well: He knew Sara long and well enough to know she could be… difficult when she wanted to be. So how bad does it get when she is no longer in charge?

"We went shopping for baby supplies the other day and, I'm telling you, it was like shopping with a different version of Sara with every aisle we took."

"Huh." Peter stated simply.

"What?"

"I actually feel no sympathy for you, _at all_." Peter beamed.

Neal's once vivid facial expression dropped instantly and he gazed at Peter almost disappointedly out of the corner of his eye. Then he suddenly turned his face away from Peter and walked off towards the kitchen.

"Elizabeth," Neal greeted when stepping into the kitchen, "how are you?"

"Hey Neal," Elizabeth received Neal's peck on the cheek with a smile, "good, you?"

"Great. Anything I can do?"

"Uhh, yes, actually. Peter was just about to make juice for Sara, but if you could take over then he could go set the table."

"Oww," Neal pursed his lips, "Orange juice?"

"Yes, why? What's wrong?"

"She actually doesn't like that anymore."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's a struggle every morning to get her to drink just one glass."

"Aha… well I guess I could send Peter to get some apple juice from the market on the corner?"

"Great, then I'll go set the table." Neal walked around the kitchen island, completely ignoring a stunned Peter and Sara.

"Thank you!" Elizabeth cheered at him and turned around, facing her stove again, also paying no mind to her husband and Sara.

"Jeez," Sara turned to Peter, but raised her voice to emphasize that her words were meant for others: "don't you just _hate_ it when people talk about you like you're not even in the room?"

"Yeah," Peter replied, also loudly, "_hate_ when that happens."

Both Elizabeth and Neal stopped with what they were doing and looked at their respective partners, smiling apologetically.

"Sorry, hon."

"Sorry!"

"Alright," Peter smiled back at his wife, letting her know she was already forgiven, "apple juice it is. Anything else?"

"Nope, think we got everything we need, thanks honey."

"Then I'll be right back."

"Wait, Peter," Sara pushed herself off the stool, "I could actually go for a walk. See you guys later."

"See ya." Elizabeth replied.

"Be careful!" Neal added.

"I will," Sara rolled her eyes.

"I was actually talking to Peter."

Sara turned sideways to face a beamingly grinning Neal and Sara couldn't help but notice how happy he looked. It was a good look – happy suits him. Angry and offended hormones were instantly replaced by proud and affectionate ones at the thought of her being part of his happiness. There was no other reply to his grin than a smile of her own and she mouthed "Bye," – which he returned – before turning around again.

"So," Elizabeth started once Peter and Sara had left, "how are you, _really_? With the pregnancy and the house hunting and… the wedding?" Elizabeth's voice got a little higher towards the end, revealing her curiosity for the latter topic.

Neal smiled, "I'm actually, _really_, alright. I mean, sometimes it's overwhelming. It almost seems as if a lot is happening and all happening too fast. But then I breathe and count to ten and-" Neal shrugged, taking a moment to find the right words, "And then it seems everything can't happen soon enough, you know? It's good. We're good."

Elizabeth smiled at her friend's happiness. "Yes, you are. Gotta hand it to you, Caffrey, you got a pretty good deal with this one."

Neal smiled and looked down briefly, suddenly feeling humbled. "Thank you."

"Your welcome. Aaand the wedding?"

Neal chuckled at Elizabeth's poor attempt to casualty. "No news yet, but there's something else we'd like to tell you guys, but let's wait till they get back and we'll tell you at the same time."

"Ah, afraid she'll bit your head off if you tell me without her?"

"Terrified."

* * *

Outside, Peter and Sara walked in silence. Sara was too busy focusing on walking and being glad at the opportunity to stretch her legs. Peter, on the other hand, was feeling like he owed Sara an apology, he just didn't know how to go about it. Women haven't exactly been his specialty – let alone pregnant ones – and it's moments like these that he remembered just how lucky he was with Elizabeth and their marriage.

Finally, Peter forced himself to just man up: Pregnant or not, it's still Sara and he's known her for years, come on!

"I'm sorry for what happened," he started, "you know, with the whole belly-thing."

Sara, after seeing Peter's careful expression, couldn't help but laugh loudly, "Thanks Peter, but really, I'm the one who should be apologizing. You weren't saying anything that wasn't true: I _am_ big," she chuckled and gestured to her body, "I'm sorry for snapping at you; most of the time I barely have control over my emotions anymore."

Peter smiled, "Sara Ellis, no control? Who wudda thunk it?!"

"_Not_ by choice, trust me."

"I know," Peter affirmed, "So how are you with everything else? Hope Neal's not stressing you out even more?"

"Neal's actually been amazing," Sara smiled proudly, "Part of me almost wants him to do something stupid, just so I know that all this has really dawned on him."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know, it's a lot: There's the baby and moving and the wedding… And it's all happening so fast. Last year we couldn't even decide were to go for dinner and now we're a family. I mean, I don't even let myself think too much about it or I'll go crazy, but not Neal. Seems like he's handling it all just fine."

"Well, don't let him take all the credit. You're the one doing the heavy lifting and you're doing a damn good job at it too."

Sara could feel her heart swell as tears stung behind her eyes. She knew she had to stop Peter from talking or the waterworks would start again. "Thank you Peter."

When he just smiled at her in return, Sara thanked the Lord.

"And you know Elizabeth and I are always here for you guys. Whatever you need."

Oh no, there it goes.

"Oh no! No-no," Peter panicked, holding his hands in front of Sara, unsure of what to do, "Don't cry Sara, please. I didn't-"

Sara took a gulp of air, "It's fine… just… hormones… give me…a sec," she managed to choke out between her sobs.

Peter, whose eyebrows were raised in desperation, nodded slightly and lowered his hand, "O-okay…"

They stood there, in the middle of the sidewalk, forcing other passersby to walking around them and after a minute or so, Sara's breathing evened out. When she was sure there were no tears coming, she accepted the tissue Peter held out for her and wiped her cheeks.

"Thank you," Sara said when she looked up, "and sorry, again."

"It's fine," Peter smiled, letting out a relieved breath.

"Imagine going through that every day, huh?" Sara joked.

Peter wrinkled his nose at the thought, "I'd really, rather not."

* * *

Later that evening, Neal and Sara had stopped the cab a few blocks from Sara's apartment, deciding to go for a late night stroll and walking the rest of the route.

"So, I know we've been avoiding this subject like the plague," Neal paused briefly to smile at Sara's smirk: She knew exactly where he was going with this, "but when would you like to get married?"

Sara breathed out audibly, allowing herself a few second before having to reply, "I don't know… I've been thinking: If we're doing this anyway, why not doing before the baby gets here? There's no reason it should be born out of wedlock, now."

Neal took hold of Sara's hand and spun her around, forcing her to stop walking. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously and eyed her sideways, "Who are you and what have you done to my fiancé?"

"Shut up!" Sara laughed softly, "I _do_ want this, you know, I said 'yes'."

"I know, I know. I just…"

"What?"

Neal shrugged, "I just figured you'd wanna put it off for as long as you could."

"Why? Do you?"

"No! No, I was actually thinking the same. In fact, I think we should get married this week."

Sara almost choked on herself: Well, that was something else.

"Ah, there she is!" Neal joked.

"Be serious!" Sara complained, "Are you for real? This week?"

Neal nodded.

"Why?"

"June's leaving in a week," Neal shrugged, "she's done so much for me, for us, I just want her to be there."

"She could fly over…" Sara stated the obvious, wondering what was Neal's true reasoning.

"I know, but," he pulled Sara closer to him, wrapping his arms around her waist, her belly in their midst, "everything just seems to fall into place. Both you and the baby are healthy; you said 'yes'; June's giving us the house... I just wanna finish this part of our story, cause I can't wait to get to the next chapter. Every time I feel like things can't get better, they do."

Sara looked up at him, her bright eyes matching her ridiculously happy grin and leaned in for a kiss Neal was only too happy to answer.

Sara pulled back slightly, "Better than Palazzo Sasso?" she mumbled to his lips.

"Palazzo-what now?"

* * *

A/N: I try to stay in character as much as possible, with everything I write. This is my first time writing June and, _man_, that was not easy. If she came across as totally unbelievable or out of character, I'm sorry! Luckily, her part was short and so I hope it hasn't ruined any other parts of this chapter for you.

Thank you all so, so much for the wonderful reviews! Also thanks to those of you who added this story to their favorites and/or subscriptions!

Hope you've enjoyed this chapter and please leave your thoughts/comments.

Soph


	6. Chapter 6

Nothing but hugs and kisses for my reviewers, thank you!

* * *

"Sara?!" He called out while closing the door behind him, "Are you home?" While listening for a reply, some part of his brain thought it necessary to point out that they, in two years time, had become that couple: The 'when-will-you-be-home' couple. Another part of his brain pointed out that it wasn't actually that terrible.

"In here!"

Shrugging out of his suit jacket and hanging it over the back of a chair, Neal made his way to Sara's bedroom. The sight of what was going on inside made him stop dead in his tracks in the doorway.

Sara was sitting on the floor just outside her closet and was surrounded by mountains of clothing, shoes, bags, scarfs and several other accessories. There was a stack of moving boxes leaning against the wall behind her and three folded up boxes piled pyramid-style between her and the bed.

But it wasn't _thát_, that had him stop and stare in surprise. It was her icy glare.

_What had he done now?_ Neal wondered idly.

"You're _late_," she snapped.

"Yeah, got held up at the office," Neal frowned: He had been late before, in fact, coming home on time was actually the exception rather than the rule, and Sara knows that, "I called, but you didn't answer."

And then all of a sudden, as if it had all been in his imagination, the glare disappeared. Making room for a trembling lip that soon turned into a pout.

"I can't move!" The strange combination of desperation and resignation caused her voice to raise a few octaves when she spluttered out the words. Neal could tell she was trying to hold back the tears and he caught himself hoping she would succeed. What could he do to prevent the waterworks?

"Oh, no, don't cry," Neal quickly begged over-sweetly, as if talking to a child. He rushed to her side, skipping over the random piles of clothes sprawled on the floor, momentarily oblivious to the probability that telling her not to cry would only have the opposite effect. He crouched down beside her and pulled her close in a comforting hug, tightening his grip to lessen the control her sobs had on her body, "I now it's a big change and, even though we've been planning this for a while, it is kind of sudden – for me too – but just think about our kid growing up in that house? Playing in that beautiful back yard? Just imagine-"

"No, Neal," Sara's muffled voice sounded from his chest and he loosened his grip as she pulled back and looked up at him, "I mean I can't _move_!" She almost growled in frustration, but that too ebbed away in a split second when her lip started trembling again, "I can't get uuupp!" her sentence died with a muffled whine as she buried herself in his chest again. Partially seeking comfort, but mainly because she didn't want him to see her tears.

And he tried. Boy, did he try; he almost chewed his lip off trying. But the tremors his body made betrayed him and when he knew there was no way of denying now, he let a chuckle escape.

Sara immediately pulled back and gasped in disbelief as Neal was now laughing wholeheartedly at her expense. Disbelief quickly turned into indignation and anger. Which was good. Way better than the tears and the helplessness. Anger, at least, was familiar. She fiercely freed herself from his embrace and, by placing her hands on his chest, shoved him away from her, causing him to tumble backwards into the box-pyramid. This only seemed to amuse Neal more as stopped his fall with his hands, pressing them against the floor and holding himself up.

"I'm glad you think this is funny!"

"Oh, come on," Neal pulled himself back up after the last fit of laughter ebbed out of his body and left a grin behind, "you can admit it's a little funny, can't you?"

"No, Neal, I really can't see how my not being able to get up off the floor for the last four hours, because I'm pregnant with _your_ baby, is remotely funny! And neither can my ass, by the way!"

Neal pressed his lips together in an attempt to hold back another laugh. Funny how it was always _his_ baby when she was mad. He held her gaze and tilted his head sideways, "_Our_ baby, Sara."

The pride and affection in his tone was unmistakable and it did strange things to her insides. His tender gaze only added fuel to the fire and when he slowly bared his perfect teeth in a half smile, Sara couldn't stop her replying smile, "Not fair, Caffrey."

"I know, sue me," he grinned while getting himself up, "at least I got you to smile. Come on, let's get you up," he bowed down to her level and put one arm out for her to use as a support rail while placing his other arm under hers and together they lifted her up off the floor.

"Thank you," Sara kissed Neal briefly after recovering her breathing: God, who knew getting yourself and your 30 weeks baby off the floor would feel like an hour of spinning class?

"You're welcome."

"What?" Sara asked when Neal was obviously biting his tongue. She looked down to check if everything was still in place. It seemed fine.

"I have something for you."

"Really?" Sara smiled curiously, "what is it?"

"I'm going to have to blindfold you, you trust me?"

At this, Sara rolled her eyes, "No, Neal, I'm moving in with and getting married to someone I don't trust."

"Fair enough," Neal chuckled, "let's do this."

* * *

Swiftly, she risked a glance over her shoulder, her eyes shifting from left to right to make sure no one was following her. When she concluded the coast was clear, Sara let out a relieved breath and slipped the key into the keyhole, turned it gently, careful to make as little noise as possible and pushed the door open stepping inside.

_Shit_! The alarm!

She mutters under her breath and walked back towards the keypad, quickly typing in her security code to prevent the alarm – that's set to go off after seven seconds whenever the door opens – from waking the entire building.

She breathed out a sigh of relief when it didn't go off and continued tiptoeing to her front door. She couldn't help but smirk at the irony of having to sneak into her own apartment, like she was some kind of criminal. She had to admit; there's a certain level of excitement in doing something that you're not supposed to do. No matter how small or insignificant the level of "bad" this was.

She stepped into her apartment, slipped out of her flats and continued to tiptoe to her foyer. Taking off her coat she gently placed it over the back of one of the chairs and continued to take off her jewelry, carefully placing them on the plush cushions of the chair to avoid the sounds it would make if she were to lay them on the table.

When she was stripped from everything heavy and uncomfortable, she continued quietly towards her bedroom. She smiled at the sight of him, sleeping in her bed, the lights from the lanterns outside her window causing an amber glow on the side of his face that's not touching the pillow.

And it suddenly hit her again: This man is going to be hers. To have and to hold. In sickness and in health. For better or for worse. The intensity of that reality stirs, simultaneously, all kinds of warm and fuzzy emotions in the pit of her stomach, as well as warning signs – big, fat, neon warning signs – inside her head. She feels so contradictious and the frustration she feels at that reminds her of why she never allowed herself to think too much about this. This – this thing with Caffrey. Is it always going to be like this? Is she always going to question him? His motives? His angle? His next move? Is she always going to live with fear that one day he could just be gone? Or locked up? Or, worse, killed?

Standing in the doorway, Sara smiles a sad smile: Yes, yes she is. But before allowing herself to ask the following question (Fear because I love him or fear because I don't trust him?), Sara dismisses her thoughts and walks towards the bed, crawling beside him and laying her head on his chest, finding a calm reassurance in the steady beat of his heart. Alright, so maybe – just maybe – getting married and promising each other eternal love is not exactly the best move for them, but, considering the alternative, it's what she, secretly, wants more at this point.

She doesn't allow herself to think too much about why that would be. Let's just say there was a time, far away in the past, that she had intended to get married in life. Maybe, by agreeing to marry Neal, she was just holding on to the feeling she got when she looked at old family photos. Of the days when her mother was still alive and her father's eyes didn't seem consumed by gloom and darkness. Of the days when she didn't feel like a burden and a pest to her own father.

Maybe, by agreeing to marry Neal, she was just tugging at the strings of hope. Hope that her child will have a different life. A better life. A life she barely remembers.

God, she hopes that can come true. She closes her eyes in a desperate plea for her wish to come true and gently places a kiss on his chest: _Let it come true, Neal, let it come true._

Neal stirs at the contact of her lips and murmurs something unintelligible. Sara freezes as to not wake him up, but, as she feels his hand stroking her hair, she knows she's too late.

"Mm'atcha-you doin-ere?" His words are strung together as unconsciousness still fogs his mind.

Sara lifts her head and places her chin on his abs, searching for his eyes in the darkness. "Thanking you," she grins, "that was one amazing bachelorette-party-slash-baby-shower. Thank you for doing that for me."

Neal, who had lifted his head to meet her gaze, closed his eyes again and laid his head back on the pillow. "Mm-do-nything-fo-you," He slurs.

Okay, this can not just be sleep. Sara ignores the leap her heart made at his words and raises herself on her elbow to move closer to Neal's head. And that's when she smells it: alcohol.

"Are you drunk?" she accuses, but can't hide the humor from her tone: She's never experienced a drunken Neal. Tipsy, sure, but never drunk, she just assumed he wouldn't get drunk cause of his… "business". He'd lose too much control over his body and mind.

"Lil' bit," he admits, grinning widely. "Petr, Zonez, Mazz, bashlr-parry."

Sara tilts her head in understanding. And then, for some reason, she finds herself worried, "You should have called me, you shouldn't be alone like this," her tone was almost accusing.

"Elll-zabeth," he explains, struggling with the 'i' in her name, "mad."

Oh, Elizabeth! She had already forgotten about her. Sara quickly hopes she hadn't gone to check up on her. "Well, Elizabeth's gonna be mad anyway," she whispers and this caught Neal's attention. He lifts his head from the pillow again and raises his eyebrow questioningly at Sara.

"I snuck out," she admitted, grinning like a child, "after she gave me clear instructions not to. She's taking this whole not-seeing-the groom-until-the-wedding thing quite seriously. "

Neal lays his head back on the pillow and smiles in agreement. With what little strength he has left, Neal wraps his arm around Sara and pulls her closer to him. "Glad you're here."

"Me too." And she really is.

For a moment, Sara wonders if she should take advantage of Drunken Neal and ask him things she wouldn't (couldn't) otherwise. But a yawn and a quick glance at the alarm clock – telling her it was almost 2 AM – quickly put a stop to that train of thought. She'd just have to get him drunk another time.

"Grayson," Neal suddenly murmurs, waking Sara from her reverie.

"Excuse me?"

"Fo-boy… Grayson."

Sara smiles as understanding fills her mind. Baby names!

"Grayson sounds too old." Sara objected, but can't wipe the smile of her face.

"Elliot, Grayson second name."

"Hmm… I like Elliot," she ponders, "Why so hung up on Grayson?"

"Cuz-we-gray."

Sara grins. Yes, they are. They don't make sense at all on paper, but here they are, getting married and having a baby.

"And for a girl?"

"You pick."

Of course Sara has thought of baby names countless times. It's something that comes inevitable with pregnancy, she's noticed, like morning sickness or the growing of her belly. But she's never decided on just one name. There are just too many she loves.

"There are so many, I can't pick."

"S'fine." His voice is softer now, more tired, and before Sara can count to ten, she hears Neal's heavy breathing, telling her he's fast asleep.

* * *

Sara flutters her eyes open and blinks against the bright sunlight. She turns on her other side, away from the bright light, and is faced with Neal Caffrey standing in her bathroom. A white towel wrapped around his waist as little beads of water fall from his wet hair. His back is towards her as he stands against the sink, shaving away she stubbles she felt last night. She could get used to this.

Crap, she _is_ used to this!

Hmm… maybe marriage won't be so different after all.

"Good morning." Neal grins at her from the mirror, "ready for your big day?"

Sara smiles and sits up, "_My_ big day? What about _your _big day?"

"I am, surprisingly, alright." Neal notes with some wonder in his tone.

"Surprisingly? Gee, sure know how to make a girl feel special," Sara mutters as she climbs out of bed, something she still struggles with every day, courtesy of her growing belly.

Oh no! Neal's mind races to find something to say that won't make her go all hormonal on him, "Last night didn't make you feel special enough?"

Sara grins as she's walking towards him and a relieved breath escapes through his lips.

"Last night was perfect," it takes all of her self-control not to sigh like a twelve-year-old girl with a crush, "you're quite the romantic," Sara remarks, impressed.

"Don't tell me you're surprised?"

"A little,"

Neal took hold of her hand and spun her around so she lands in his arms, "After all this time and everything you know about me? I'm hurt." Neal feigned offense.

"Oh, how will I ever make it up to you?"

Neal buried his face in the curve of her neck, grazing his lips along her skin, "I'm sure I'll think of something," he murmurs before pressing a kiss, sending chills up and down her spine. He reluctantly removed his face from the warmth and comfort of her neck and gazed down at her, his face suddenly serious, "How are you, really?"

"I'm fine," Sara assured.

"You still want this?"

"Neal, we've been through this and through this," Sara fought the urge to roll her eyes at him, "If I didn't want this, I wouldn't do it. It's that simple."

"Just making sure you're not standing me up at the altar," he grins.

"To be honest, I'm more scared to face Elizabeth today, than you at the altar."

"I'm sure it won't be that bad."

"Oh no, she _really_ didn't want me to go and see you. I promised her I wouldn't, but just in case, she had Diana follow my every move last night. Even made us sleep in the same bed."

"Hmm…" Neal looked up out of the corner of his eyes, making it perfectly obvious what image he was thinking of.

"Hey!" She gently smacks the back of his head, forcing him back to reality.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding! So why did you? Come back, I mean."

"I wanted to," she shrugged, not wanting to get into too much detail. Besides, she's not lying.

"I'm glad you did, we'll face them together."

"I'm glad I did too," Sara smirks, "I've never seen you drunk before. Ever."

"That's cause I never _get_ drunk, I have no idea what came over me last night."

"Well, I'm happy you did."

Neal raises his eyebrow at her, "You are?"

"Yeah, I was waiting for you to blow off some steam," Sara explained, but could tell from Neal's expression that he needed more, so she continued: "There's so much going on right now and you seem so much in control of everything, while I've been going crazy sometimes, it's just-" she raised her shoulder in contemplation before dropping it again, "It's reassuring to see that you freak out as well," she concluded with a smile.

Neal chuckled, "Well, glad to be of service."

* * *

Goodness! I have no idea why I'm writing all these overly sticky-sweet chapters all of a sudden. I hadn't planned anything with this story and just go with the flow and apparently it's flowing straight into cotton-candy-heaven… Maybe because we deal with crap every day in reality and this is my getaway? Ah well, hope you enjoyed it and please – as always - I'd love to hear what you think!

Soph


	7. Chapter 7-I

"I have a surprise for you," Neal murmurs conspiratorially in her ear as he buries his face further down her neck and grazes his lips over her skin in a swift kiss just below her ear. Chills struggle to race up and down her spine instantly – God, he knows how to excite her – but her curiosity eventually suppresses them and she turns her head just in time to watch him gracefully rise from his seat and walk towards the stage.

Oh, no! For a moment, Sara fears the possibility of him giving a speech about her. If he knows her at all, he'll know she won't like that kind of attention and if he cares about her at all; he won't put her through something that embarrassing. Luckily, she sees him motion for the bandleader and, as the leader bends down to be within hearing range, Neal whispers something in his ear. Sara feels herself tense slightly with caution – what is he doing now? – and simultaneously feel the corner of her mouth curl up in a half smile with piqued interest. One thing she knows for sure: Life is never going to be boring with Neal.

She watches him carefully, ready to catch anything that might give away what he's up to, but as to be expected; neither his back or his hair give anything away. It wasn't until he turned around and his gaze met hers, that she sees his grin grow slowly and cheekily on his face as he strolls over to their table. He comes to a halt beside her and graciously holds out his hand for her, "Dance with me, Mrs. Caffrey."

Her heart swells and melts simultaneously at his words, it's a deliciously riotous feeling almost makes her gasp for air. Grinning back at him, Sara puts her hand in his and uses the edge of the table to push herself out of her seat. Neal guides her to the dance floor, giving a nod to the band and Sara's in his arms just as the tunes of that all-too-familiar song start playing. Her eyes grow wide and Sara jerked her head backwards, off his shoulder, to look at him.

"Hm, you remember," he mumbles impressed, raising his lips in half a smile.

Her heart sinks to the pit of her stomach and she stops following his fluent moves on the dance floor. Sensing her anger, Neal comes to a halt also and burrows his brows in alarm, "What?" he asks confused.

"Neal!" Sara wants to scream, but keeps her voice a growling whisper, aware of the fact that they're not alone, "of course I remember! I can't believe you would bring this up on our _wedding day_!" She hisses ferociously at him. She doesn't know whether to be disappointed or sad, but for now, she'll settle for angry.

Neal stepped back in honest surprise: The last thing he wanted was to cause this reaction. He thought she'd appreciate the romance behind this gesture: It was their moment and even though it happened years ago, it will always be theirs and despite everything that had happened afterwards, he had never forgotten about it. He hoped she hadn't either – which she clearly hasn't, but for entire different reasons than him, it would appear.

"Sara, I don't understand, I thought-"

"What, Neal? That, on my wedding day, I would like to be reminded of the one time you conned me?" Despite the heated prickles in her bloodstream, her voice softened with... what? Betrayal?

Neal eyebrows shot up in surprise, "What? Sara, no, of course not!" And this time it was Neal's turn to feel frustrated: Why would she think that? Doesn't she know by now that he would never deliberately hurt her? Why does she _still_ always assume the worst?

"Do you think you could maybe for once _not_ assume the worst with me?" He hissed right back at her. Sara blinked. Once. Twice. Finally, as she realizes she doesn't know what to say, she closes her mouth and swallows hard. The surprise at his words still evident in her expression as she can't tear her gaze away from his.

Suddenly, Peter was at their side, smiling broadly. With a loud thud he placed his hand on Neal's shoulder, while his other hand moved, much gentler, over Sara's back, pushing the newly weds back together, "My wife sent me to tell you people are starting to stare," he whispers with his smile still in place, "please finish this dance so_ I_ won't get in trouble."

Neal closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them his frustration seemed resolved, though he was still feeling it standing patiently on a sidewalk, waiting for the lights to jump to green. This was not over, but he knew now was neither the right time nor place for this discussion. Besides, you only get one chance at the first dance on your wedding, he didn't want to ruin it with whatever doubts he may still have. Taking Sara's willing hand back in his, he started moving to the sweet and soulful melody of Frank Sinatra's "It had to be you".

No more than a few seconds could have passed, but Sara was still surprised to find the song was far from over – it seemed they were standing still for longer than that. She rested her head back on his shoulder and closed her eyes, letting Neal sway her effortlessly to the melody. She took a deep breath through her nose and Neal's familiar cologne traveled up her airways, settling down comfortably in her mind. She felt herself unwind and as the tension left her body, it allowed her guilt to grow: Did she really always assume the worst with Neal?

Well, maybe at first, but surely not anymore? Not now? Not when they're married, living together and having a baby? Sara pulled away to look up to Neal's eyes. She was about to apologize when something in his eyes stopped her. He looked… hurt.

Moving her hand from his chest to the back of his neck, Sara slid her fingers through his hair at the nape and pulled him towards her. Tilting her head back she met his lips and placed a long, tender kiss on them. When she finally pulled back and opened her eyes, she met Neal's questioning ones.

"I'm sorry," Sara mumbled quietly, "I don't want you thinking I always assume the worst with you - I don't." Neal raises his eyebrow and turns to glance at her sideways. Sara smiles and amends, "well, not anymore, at least. I trust you, Neal."

And just like that, the once so stubborn and goal oriented frustration that was parked in front of the red light, evaporates, leaving a mixture of pride and affection in its wake, "Thank you."

"I still don't understand why you chose _this_ song, though."

Neal leans forward and presses a light kiss on her lips, "I'll explain later," he whispers before he stops moving and pulls her in for a deeper kiss. The suddenness and intensity of his kiss make Sara move her hands on his upper arms and gripping tightly for dear life as he dipped her low while the singer lingers on the last word of the song.

When the final note of the song leaves the wing of the piano, Neal finally releases her and pulls her back up, infecting Sara with his grin. Before either pulse has regulated, Neal and Sara find themselves the attention of loud applause and whoops.

Peter and Elizabeth make their way over to the newly weds and pulls each of them in a congratulatory hug. Then, as the band starts playing a new song, Peter pulls Sara in for a dance and Neal shares a dance with Elizabeth. When the song ends, Mozzie makes his way to Sara and June to Neal for their third dance.

"I don't know if it's the hormones, Mozzie," Sara starts, "but I'm really glad you're in our lives."

"Definitely the hormones." Mozzie concludes matter of factly, but even he can't hide his smile.

Sara smiles back indulgently, "If you're half the uncle to our baby as you are a friend to Neal, then I have nothing to worry about."

"Uncle?" Mozzie's eyebrows shot up in surprise and Sara nodded in confirmation, "Hmm… uncle…" he tasted the word.

"Uncle Mozzie." Sara helped.

Suddenly, Mozzie stopped and let go of Sara, his hand flying to his head, "Ooh… I think I need to sit down, this is just way too fast. I don't know if I'm ready to be an uncle! What are you doing to me?!" Mozzie cried out in desperation and turned around, looking for a place to sit, leaving Sara confused on the dance floor.

She took a seat next to him and placed her hand comfortingly on his shoulder, hoping to stop him from his back-and-forth rocking.

"Hey, don't you wanna be an uncle?"

"Give me a moment… you've just sprung this on me. I need to process this. This is not to be taken lightly!"

"Just sprung this on you? Moz, I've been pregnant for thirty weeks!"

"Yeah, but you never told me that I would be an _uncle_!" he accused, "It's one thing being the reverend for you and Neal's wedding, but… uncle!"

"I thought… you knew." Sara explained, a frown giving away her confusion at his reaction.

"Thought I knew?!" Mozzie sat up straight, "Does this face look like someone who _knew_ he was going to be an uncle?"

As confusing as his reaction was, it was equally amusing and Sara found herself pursing her lips in an attempt not to laugh, "You're right, I'm sorry. But what did you think you were going to be?"

"I don't know… Daddy's business associate, friend of the family, the funny bald guy who brings cool toys, I don't know!"

"Oh, Mozzie," Sara shook her head in amusement; it was hard not to find his reaction endearing, "you're much more than that. Didn't you think you were going to be in this baby's life? You built bars charged with 110 volt outside the windows of the nursery, for crying out loud. You installed five cameras _and_ a modified motion detector alarm and those are only the things I know about, God knows what else you've been up to in there! _Of course_ you're going to be in this baby's life. You're family, Moz."

Sara watched Mozzie thaw with each of her words and when she finished and waited for his reply, Mozzie looked down at the carpet. Hallelujah, a shy Mozzie!

"Well… I suppose… If it were the only way to be in its life? I suppose I could do it…"

Sara immediately caught on and smiled, "Yes, Mozzie, being an uncle is the only way you're going to be in this baby's life."

At this, Mozzie looked up, smiling genuinely, "Uncle Mozzie it is then."

Sara let out a breath of relief, "Oh, finally! I really have to pee!" They shared a chuckle and then Sara struggled to get herself up. Mozzie got to his feet immediately and gave her the support she needed.

Back on the dance floor, June had handed Neal over to her granddaughter, Cindy. The two of them were dancing as the band striked up yet another classic, this time it was Louis Armstrong's "What A Wonderful World".

"This might just be our last dance, Neal."

"I'm sure it won't be. You'll visit, New York has an addictive effect. And this house will always be yours too."

"Thank you, Neal. Well, then this might be my last chance to flirt with you and try to impress you," Cindy joked, hoping to steer the conversation to a lighter topic.

Neal laughed freely and held out his left hand to her, "I'm afraid it's a little too late for that."

"Oh, come on! It's never too late for a little harmless flirting. I'm sure your _very attractive_ wife would agree," she raised her eyebrow challengingly at him.

Neal eyes her sideways and pulled his lips up in a smirk, "I'm confused. I thought you were flirting, now you're trying to make me jealous by insinuating Sara flirts?"

Cindy shrugged nonchalantly, "Maybe it was a test; only a man in love can be jealous," she explained and smiled warmly, "I'm happy for you, Neal, you deserve to be happy."

"Thank you, Cindy."

The band stopped abruptly and when Neal looked up to see why, he saw Peter taking place behind the microphone. Peter cleared his throat to get everyone's attention and when he did, he raised his champagne glass.

"I think it's time for the best man's speech," Peter started and Sara made her way over to Neal, who wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him, "I have witnessed this story from both ends: Neal's and Sara's. I've known them both for about the same amount of time and if you had asked me nine years ago if I thought this day would ever happen: … No, it will be a cold day in hell before either Sara or Neal would think of each other this way," Peter smiled broadly at the newly weds, who in their turn agreed with him in silent embarrassment, "Now, all of you know me long and well enough to know I'm not one for the sentimental crap. I don't do romance, I'm sure my wife could attest to that," he winks quickly at his wife, who smiles back and shakes her head in disagreement, causing a murmur of laughs to spread around the small wedding party, "So, when I got that file on my desk and the Caffrey-case turned into a four year chase, there was one description persistently present on every single profiling of this young con man who could: Romantic. At the time, I saw it as a weakness – and in all honesty, it was, because I've caught him not once, but twice and both during his acts of romance," Peter grinned proudly and affectionately at the subject of his anecdote, "You'd think someone as smart as Neal would learn from his mistakes, but even after our arrangement with the anklet, he was still letting the romantic in him guide him. I've called him weak and stupid for it many times, hell I've even gotten mad at him about it. But what I didn't realize at the time is that it is that quality that is actually what makes him a man. Neal's heart is what makes him strong and I now know that it will keep both him and his wife strong during whatever hardships may come their way. I know it will keep them strong during the raising of their child and I know it will keep them strong enough until the end," Peter smiled indulgently at the pair and raised his glass, "To Neal and Sara, everyone. I couldn't be more thrilled for you both."

Everyone clapped and Peter stepped down from the stage, walking purposefully towards Neal and pulling him into a bear hug.

"Thank you, Peter." Neal murmured into the hug. Peter replied with a pat on the shoulder before breaking the hug and turning to Sara and pulling her in for a hug too. Their moment was interrupted by fumbling noises of the microphone again. Looking up, Sara was surprised to see that her assistant, Stacey, had taken the stage.

"Uhm, hi, everybody," Stacey began carefully, "Most of you don't know me, I'm Stacey and I've worked for Sara as her assistant for a little over six years now. I know I'm not the maid of honor, but I'd really like to say a few words. Consider this my wedding present, Sara," Stacey smiled briefly at the confused bride, who returned the act tentatively, "When I started at Sterling Bosch, I was warned by several employees to be careful around _the_ Sara Ellis. People wished me good luck with the cold, tough and frigid insurance investigator and I started to get worried. But after just one week I found myself actually liking this woman. She was no Mary Poppins, but she was nice to me and so I started to get suspicious; I wondered if she was only being this way because she wanted something. Because according to everyone else, Sara Ellis was only nice when she needed something from you. Well, I've worked for her for six years and we've spent many late night hours together and though we're far from being BFF's, I've known her too long to not notice her change. Like I said, she was always nice to me, professional and she's a great boss to have. But it wasn't until about three years ago that I noticed real change: Sara was happier, well rested, she smiled much more and it was a great joy to witness. I was privy to a side of Sara not many knew existed and now, because of her relationship with Neal, the entire world gets to see just how good of a heart lies beneath that tough exterior. I couldn't be happier for you, Sara. To Neal and Sara!" Stacey raises her glass and smiles warmly at her boss.

As Stacey climbed down the stage, smiling shyly at the applause, Sara made her way to her. "Stacey, I don't know what to say…. that was so nice of you. Thank you," Sara then narrowed her eyes, "just who warned you about me, exactly?"

Stacey laughed and waved her off, "Nobody important."

"Well, I'm glad you didn't listen to them. Would have cost me one hell of an assistant."

"Hey, Stace," Neal greeted as he reached them, placing his hand on Sara's lower back, "great speech."

"Thanks Neal." Stacey replied cheerfully, keeping her gaze fixed on Neal for just a beat too long. The effect that his dazzling smile and dancing eyes had on her, had weakened over the years as she grew more and more used to his good looks and charm with every visit he'd paid to Sara's office. But today she felt like she did when she saw him for the first time. He looked different today. He was glowing with happiness and the results made him… glorious and Stacey had to bite the inside of her cheek to prevent from gushing.

"Neal," Mozzie tapped his shoulder, "I need to talk to you about- Oh, hello." Mozzie stopped midsentence when he noticed that the couple wasn't alone. And then he remembered.

Stacey frowned, "Hi," she replied hastily, welcoming the distraction. But then she remembered something and narrowed her eyes as she was taking a closer look at Mozzie, "Don't I know you?"

"No," Mozzie replied too quickly, "Scuze me," and he scurried off.

"If you'll excuse us, Stacey, I have some explaining to do to my wife."

"Already?" Stacey raised her eyebrow in surprise, "well, you're off to a good start."

At this, Neal showed her his well-practiced smile and shrugged, "You know me, always in some kind of trouble."

"Well, good luck then," Stacey gave a quick nod and walked passed them to join the rest of the party.

When Stacey was out of earshot Neal wrapped his arms around Sara's waist, letting his hands rest on her lower back and relishing the feel of her belly pressing against his: He was holding the most valuable, most precious elements of his life in one embrace. The thought released a storm of emotions that he could no longer keep inside. Leaning forward Neal pressed his lips on Sara's with an almost palpable need to share the overflow of whatever was going on inside of him. It was only their urgent need of fresh air that finally broke their kiss. The fresh oxygen was more than welcome and got them off their high while Neal kept his forehead leaned against hers to not have to break contact.

"Hi," Neal grinned sheepishly.

"Hi," Sara replied, her soft voice doing a poor job at masking her surprised undertone.

"I'm really glad you didn't stand me up at the altar."

Sara's bright laugh kick-started Neal's chuckle, "Is that what that was about? I told you I wouldn't!"

"No, no, it wasn't. I'm just happy. I'm holding everything I could ever need right here, in my arms."

Sara wasn't sure whether to cry or jump in joy, but either way; it was a good thing Neal was holding her so firmly. Sara considers herself a woman of the world and therefore knowledgeable. She knows all that the books, movies, poems, songs and girlfriends who'd come to her with their broken hearts back in college, had to say about this thing called love. She knows all there is to know about how wonderful it feels and how there's nothing else in this world that matters more than love and how there is nothing quite like being in love. She knows, of course she knows.

She didn't know, however, that she would ever be one to experience any of it. She also didn't know that it could ever actually be right as described, or even better. She didn't know she was even deserving of these feelings and so at a young age, Sara had already decided that it would never happen for her. Someone with her background – a mother deceased when she was five, a cold and unavailable father, a sister who left her when she was thirteen – surely didn't deserve love or why else would her family disappear from her life one by one? But it wasn't in her nature to dwell: It was a done deal and she had accepted it long ago.

There were times, of course, when there would be little sparks of hope, but Sara had always found herself stronger than those sparks and soon enough she barely even had to pretend to put up fight against them.

She didn't understand how it was possible, but with Neal, those sparks went unnoticed and before she could even catch up, they had spiraled into something entirely different. She spent a good amount of nights lying awake and trying to figure it out. The best she could come up with was that she was most likely so alert around Neal, looking for the con in everything he did and listening for the lie in everything he said, that her focus was scattered.

But all of that didn't matter know. Things are the way they are and she has long gone accepted it, gladly now that she knows that Neal feels the same way. In times of doubts or frustrations or insecurities, it's that knowledge that brings her comfort.

"Back atcha," Sara whispers, still a little taken aback by his confession. She will never grow tired of these kind of confessions.

"So," Sara started, wanting to move on to a much lighter topic, "how does Mozzie know Stacey exactly? And don't you even try to weasel yourself out of this one, Caffrey, I know something's up!" Sara jumped to add the last sentence after she felt Neal already starting to shrug.

Neal chuckled dryly, "Would you believe me if I said he had a thing for perky blondes?"

"Ew. But no."

"Alright," Neal sighed good-humoredly, "Remember the whole FAA-tape thing? Well, Mozzie went to try and get it from your office, but then I killed you and I'm guessing it was Stacey who informed Mozzie that all your belongings were under lock and key."

Sara pursed her lips at the all but fond memory and Neal started to get worried again, "Are you mad?"

"No," Sara admitted, "no more mad for today. I'm glad you told me the truth. I think there was something else you were going to tell me, wasn't there?" Sara raised her eyebrow in feigned forgetfulness, hinting at the promised explanation of the Neal's song choice for their first dance as a married couple.

Neal smirked at her attempt at nonchalance, "Later," he promised, "when we're doing our vows."

Finding herself smiling at the promise held in his words, Sara conceded, "Alright."

The rest of the evening had gone smoothly. A few more pictures were taken aside from the constant candids the photographer was instructed to take. Sara had two more dances, one with her boss Winston Bosch and one with Jones, and after that she said she really needed to sit down and kick those damned heels off. She settled for watching Neal dance and laugh with their family and the occasional wink and grin he'd send her way. Elizabeth eventually came to sit down beside her and Sara thanked her once again for organizing such a wonderful wedding on such short notice. They had to have the wedding at June's- well, their house since it was too late to rent a space. But, if Sara had to be honest, she wouldn't have it any other way. It was a beautiful day and after having the ceremony in the house's larger than large living room, that had been converted to a small church, the wedding party moved to the back yard of the house where a marquee was set up for the reception. The jazz band was set up in the far right corner, leaving the left corner as the photos-area. The dance floor in the middle was surrounded by six tables that seated five. The food was catered and three waiters made sure no one was holding an empty glass. It was simple, small and sophisticated. Sara loved it and she could honestly say she'd never been happier.

It was just before 11 PM when the first people started leaving. An hour later, there was only the usual crowd left: Jones and his date, Diana, June, Cindy, Peter and Elizabeth. Neal had wondered where Mozzie had disappeared off to, but when he went to personally get Mr. Bosch' coat from the checkroom, the question marks soon changed in to exclamation marks and he couldn't get himself out of there fast enough.

They had all offered to stay and help clean up, but both Neal and Sara convinced everyone to go home; they'd deal with the mess tomorrow. June and Cindy went up to bed and around midnight, Neal took Sara to their temporary bedroom on the second floor.

T.B.C

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You guys… The reviews are amazing and they truly make my day – every day. Thank you all so much! You too, annie, who has been leaving little treats of reviews for all my stories, thnx!

DarkDivine131: Of course you can make suggestions! I love Liam for a boy, too, but I'm working on another story where I already have a Liam and I feel kinda funny using that name twice. Other suggestions are more than welcome!

A little heads up: there will be one more chapter (maybe(!) two, but that depends on how the next one develops) after this and then it's time for the epilogue.

Please do review!

Soph


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